For One Man
by WWIIbeast1945
Summary: Lt. Dewynn re-lives his memories of the crash after he explains the wreck to Captain Miller.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The First Flight

Captain Miller walked through the group of wounded airborne soldiers, eying each man intensely. He arrived at a covered area with many resting and wounded soldiers. One soldier, resting against a chunk of metal, spoke up, "Captain," he coughed, "Hey, Captain?" Captain Miller looked towards him, "Soldier, wanna fill me in?" The soldier stood and walked with Miller, "Uh yeah... Lieutenant Dewynn, sir; 99th two Carrier Squadron carrying the 227th Flatter Division. This one was mine, sir. I was the pilot. Twenty-two men dead." He motioned to a wreck. "I ended up over there without a scratch. Took my co-pilots head right off." The Captain looked around, "Okay then, where are the rest of your people?"

"Uh, the people we came in with sir, they left the first night, haven't heard from 'em since. Meantime, other guys keep showin' up; one, two, half a dozen at a time. Then some officer will come along and patch together a mixed unit. They're often trouble sir."

"Okay, we're looking for a guy named Ryan, he was in Baker company of the 506th and 101st?"

Dewynn shook his head, "No, no, you got me sir. Lotta guys came in recently..."

The Captain turned to his group and barked orders. Dewynn just waited patiently. Miller turned back to him, pointing to the wreck.

They walked up the mid-section of a ruined glider. "I've tried to pry 'em out of there hard as I could. I need a wench..." Miller looked through the window, near the cockpit, "Stars." Dewynn looked back at him, "Yeah. Brigadier General, amen. Deputy commander, 101st. Some fucking genius..." he stepped into the bulk of the wreck, stamping on the metal floor, "... had the great idea that it would be a smart to weld a couple of steel plates to our deck, to keep the General safe from ground fire; Unfortunately, they forgot to tell me about it 'till we were just getting airborne." Dewynn paused.

"Well sir, it was like trying to fly a fucking freight train. Okay? Gross overload, trim shot to hell." Dewynn sighed. Miller continued to look around the interior of the glider, damaged and torn. "Nearly broke both my arms trying to keep her level. And when... and when we released, I cut as hard as I could. Tried to gain some altitude and still keep it from stalling." Dewynn started shaking his head, breathing in quick gasps.

"We... we came down like a fuckin' meteor. And this is how we ended up." Dewynn gulped down a breathe, motioning all around him.

"The others, they... they stopped easy enough. We were just... we were just too damn heavy. You know?"

Miller glanced at him, pitying him slightly.

"Wet grass, downward slope and all..." Dewynn nodded his head frantically.

"Twenty-two guys dead."

"All that for a General?"

"One man..."

Some New Yorker who'd been listening through a lower window, "Yeah, there's a lot of that going around."

Dewynn looked around, "FUBAR, huh?" Everyone agreed.

The soldiers paused. A scrawny soldier poked his head through another window, complaining about not finding FUBAR in a dictionary or something. The Captain barked at him again.

Dewynn sighed again, "Oh, you might wanna check these out sir,"

He handed Miller a tattered bag he withdrew from his belt. "Dog tags, more than I could count."

Miller shook the bag, feeling the weight. "I've covered a lot of bodies, sir." Dewynn admitted. He chucked the bag at a soldier, "Jackson? Start going through those." The man looked at the Captain and with a southern accent said, "Yessir," The New Yorker, obviously bored, spoke up, "I'll help." Then the Captain left the plane, followed by an entourage of his soldiers. Dewynn sat back down in the wreck. He remembered the day this all started, what started the event that made him lose 22 men and a general in the blink of an eye.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

The crisp, quiet air of August 12th, 1944 was shattered by the sound of AA fire and plane engines. Bombers were moving from an American airfield to hit small towns on Germany's borders; soften defenses. The Boeing B-17 bomber roared over the French landscape. Tyler Dewynn sat in the nose cone, prepping his 12.7 mm Browning machine gun; the Luftwaffe patrolled this area frequently, they didn't want Allied forces getting farther than midway through France. Dewynn lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. He used to not smoke, but war got him this way. The pilot, Colonel Richard, called down into the gunner booth. "Dewynn! Get ready! Hudson is pickin' up Luftwaffe Messerschmitt 109s on the east horizon!" He gave a thumbs up to the cockpit. Hudson, or as the other crew members called him "Huey", was the navigator/radar monitor. He called to the cockpit again, "Yeah Captain! We got about 20 109s on the radar! Get ready Tyler!"

Chief Warrant Officer Dewynn steadied himself, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. Sweat dotted his forehead, making his dark brown hair stick to his temples. The sounds of airplanes became louder as the small, hostile specks on the horizon became larger. He took a huge gulp of air and another drag on his cigarette. "Here we go..." he muttered.

"OPEN FIRE!" The pilot screamed. Dewynn didn't wait for an invitation. His Browning spewed bullets, pouring them from the nose of the plane. The Luftwaffe didn't take to kindly to being shot, and fired back. The B-17 lurched to the left, allowing the side gunner, Joe Danarra, to tear some metal up. Dewynn took a breathe. The plane continued its spin, eventually pointing Dewynn towards the hostiles once more. Dewynn continued to pour out lead. One bullet met a German fuselage warmly, making it burst into flame. The Messerschmitt vehicle burst into a million scraps while the burning fuselage plummeted earthward. "Hell yeah!" Dewynn exclaimed, chalking up another tally on the gunner pit's wall. The Messerschmitt planes buzzed around the bomber. All the gun ports were constantly blazing. Dewynn could hear Danarra cheering with every connecting bullet. Dewynn wiped sweat from his brow, allowing the gun to cool down. The fighters in front of the bomber had thinned, trying to flank the aircraft. Dewynn swiveled to look at the pilots. The co-pilot was deep in concentration, trying to keep the plane steady while also avoiding hostiles. Colonel Richard, on the other hand, gave Dewynn and urgent stare and motioned him to turn around. Dewynn almost missed the German fighter speeding towards them, guns blazing. Some holes in the glass, that was all the close-encounter experience dealt to the Flying Fortress. The plane lurched once more; Dewynn noticed the German numbers were thinning. If a few more planes went down, the Germans would most likely retreat. Just a few more planes...

Dewynn's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of wrenching metal. Stuck in the gunner pit, Dewynn couldn't see what was the source of the sound. His question was soon answered by John Freyermuth, their right wing gunner. "Her right wing is ripped up bad! I think our engine might be smoking!" He yelled up to the cockpit. The Colonel swore loudly. "Fuck! Only need a few more before they fall back! Anyone wanna back out?" Danarra turned toward the cockpit screaming. "We can't take 'em all sir! There's too many pla- AAUUGH!" The gunner port on the left wing was ripped up by machine gun fire. The ammunition for the Browning exploded soon after, tearing Corporal Danarra to pieces. The Colonel swore again, "Shit! Alright, we gotta leave now!" The plane banked, turning back towards friendly ground. The ventral gunner, his name escaping Dewynn's memory, blurted out something inaudible. Dewynn thought it was a shout to the cockpit, however it was the terrible sound of someone being peppered by shrapnel.

Dewynn looked back to the pilots, "We're not gonna make it! Can't this thing go faster?" The co-pilot looked down at him, "We're already going 289! We can't go any fast-"

The co-pilots window was suddenly splattered with blood. The Colonel shouted to the remaining crew members, "Alright! We're aborting Get your 'chutes, we're going now!" Dewynn, Freyermuth, the Colonel, and Huey all grabbed parachutes and shoved open the hatch. Dewynn looked down and gulped. This was his first jump. The Colonel looked up at the men, watching them cautiously. He jumped, followed by Freyermuth, Huey, then finally Dewynn.

The wind rushed in his face as he plummeted somewhere over France. He was the last to jump so he saw the rest of his crew falling in front of him. The Colonel spun around in mid-air giving Dewynn a thumbs up. He watched as the rest of the crew pulled their chutes. Dewynn turned skyward, watching their plane lurch back and forth, lacking a pilot. The German fighters barreled towards the planes carcass, pumping lead into the hull. The bomber erupted in flames as the fighters flew off. Dewynn's eyes widened. Some burning pieces of the plane were hurtling towards the ground, on top of them. Dewynn turned earthward once more, speeding towards the rest of the crew. The Colonel was the only one with his chute pulled so far. Dewynn sped towards Huey and Freyermuth, catching them both in mid-air, pulling them hard to the right. After exiting the path of the falling metal, he let go and allowed the others to pull their parachutes. He turned to the Colonel, only to see the blazing pieces of the plane rush on top of him, dragging him in a death plunge towards the ground. Dewynn look away, and pulled his chute.

The trio hit the ground hard, but the grass was comforting on their hands. Huey stood up stretching, then looked over to the wreckage. They all could see the plane, and a small, burning chunk of parachute. Dewynn sighed, then looked to the west. Huey spoke up, "If the readings on the plane were correct, the Omaha beachhead should be 8... 10 miles from here." Dewynn lite another cigarette, breathing in the smoke. He turned to the others. "We're unarmed, alone, and far inland. I say the beachhead is our best bet." The other agreed, and they took off west, desperate to reach the coast.

They walked past the wreck, seeing the planes corpse. The hull was shot up everywhere, no bodies visible. The Colonel was probably under the a piece of wing, or burned to ashes while still falling. Poor guy. Freyermuth examined the engine, then spun around, wide-eyed. "This engine is leaking gasoline! Theres flames everywhere around here; we better get moving!" The trio sprinted away from the wreck, and watched the wreck blow skyward. The explosion was terribly large, chunks of metal flying all around. Huey screamed as one piece of shrapnel ripped through his leg. Dewynn lifted him over his shoulders. "C'mon Huey, we gotta keep moving..." Dewynn could almost taste his promotion. The Official would be very happy to see he saved the men of his plane.

Hey! Pretty accurate huh? Listened to the clip as I was writing so the convo would be correct. Anyway, next chapter will be Dewynn's briefing and him getting his very own pilot mission! Stay tuned to see the entire wreck unfold...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Excuse me, General?

The grassland rolled softly across the French landscape. Dewynn still dragged Huey along on his shoulders. Huey trudged lightly, but made no other effort of moving himself. He was getting heavy, and Dewynn began to grumble to himself. It had been about two miles of walking since the B-17s wreck. Freyermuth, who was lagging behind, spoke up. "Hey, Dewynn? It's been a few miles… maybe we should rest?" Dewynn turned to him, "Yeah, yeah, maybe we should. Huey? Get the fuck off of me."

Huey sat down on the grass, as did the others. They couldn't rest long, considering they had no weapons besides a Colt 1911 sidearm and little ammo. Dewynn pulled out a cigarette, lighting in swiftly. Huey looked over, "Hey Dewynn, pass me a butt?"

Dewynn glanced back at him, "Yeah, sure. Make it count, I'm almost out."

"Sure Dewynn. I'll think of it as the last god damn cigarette of this whole war."

Dewynn had to laugh. Even with a torn-up leg, he still had time to crack jokes and let his sarcasm leak out. Freyermuth was studying his map, intently charting the fastest way to the beachhead. Suddenly, a grin appeared on his face. "Hey guys!" he hollered, "there's a…road, I think just north of here. Maybe we could follow that back west to the beach?" Dewynn nodded, "That seems logical enough. We're not getting anywhere here. It'd be nice to find a trace of civilization in this sprawling grassland."

Dewynn heaved Huey onto his shoulders again and the little squad headed towards the road. A small, uphill trek led them to a bumpy gravel road. It looked pitted and uneven, like someone unloaded an MG into the gravel every twenty feet. Dewynn sighed, "Well, it's something,"

"So should we follow it?" Huey grumbled.

"I suppose we should. We…we gotta get back to our forces somehow."

As soon as Dewynn spoke, a soft rumble echoed from up the road. An engine. "Fuck!" Dewynn yelled, "Its coming from the east, that's not our guys. Freyermuth?"

Freyermuth listened intently, "Um… I think it's a jeep… think we could take it?"

Huey scoffed, "Fuck you, Fry. We got pistols! They've got a jeep with anything the Germans could throw at us in it. Do _you_ think we can take it, smartass?"

"I think if we get _you _out of the way, Huey, you jackass, and get me and Dewynn on the hill here…uh… maybe get down on the ground, maybe… in these bushes here. When the jeep gets close, get up and get the driver and the gunner. It's a fuckin' Jeep, not a troop transport. Four guys maybe."

Huey rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine, set me down a couple of yards away. I'll get down and do my best to stay outta sight. Good luck you two."

Dewynn and Freyermuth went prone and snuck towards the road. The roar of the engine got even louder. Dewynn looked up, "Okay, uh… I see a driver and two gunners with MP40s," Dewynn rolled back, "Let's get 'em."

The jeep roared closer. It was taking its sweet time. Dewynn figured no Allied troops had been out here yet; the jeep had nothing to look for. It drove closer at a leisurely pace, sweat dripping down Dewynn's forehead. He was drenched when the jeep rolled past them. He jumped up, pistol out, and fired off a burst of three shots. From behind, the driver got a bullet through the cap and lay slumped over the steering wheel. The German's in the back scrambled to get their guns ready. Freyermuth came up the other side of the Jeep. Dewynn and Freyermuth however, were faster, and the Nazi's were dead on the ground before they reached the triggers.

Freyermuth pushed the dead driver out of the seat and hopped behind the wheel. Dewynn ran over and grabbed Huey. After Huey was positioned in the backseat, Dewynn jumped in the passenger side and they sped off towards the beachhead. "So Officer Dewynn? You think you're gonna get some kind of medal for staying alive and saving Huey's sorry ass?" Dewynn grinned to himself and reclined in his seat, "Are you kidding? I'm sure of it. I think we'll be getting a leave, boys!"

"Excuse me, Captain?" Dewynn stammered, "you're already sending me out again?" The Captain at the beachhead turned to Dewynn. "Of course I am, Tyler. This war is rough; we need all the men we can get. I have a few things to take care of first…" Dewynn smiled. Maybe he would get that medal. He would've preferred to stay out of the war for a bit, but he'll take what he gets. "Firstly, congratulations Tyler, you're now a First Lieutenant. Wear the patch proud, boy." Dewynn graciously accepted the patch. The Captain continued, "Now, to get you familiar with your bird."

Dewynn's heart sunk. No medal? No leave? Just a rank up and a new mission? Dewynn hid his disappointment and followed the Captain. The airstrip was small, but functional. It was necessary at the beachhead to get new soldiers and supplies to the front if they didn't come on boat. "This, Tyler," the Captain said as he motioned to the bird, "is yours." Dewynn was astonished. A massive B-24 Liberator sat in front of them. "Sir, I…" Dewynn tried to search for words. The Captain saw his confusion, "What this? No, Lieutenant. This is your liftoff,"

"My… liftoff?"

"That's correct, Tyler. You're flying this,"

"You're kidding, right Captain?"

"Absolutely not, boy,"

The Captain then motioned to a Waco C-13A glider. It was a hastily created glider, but it was durable. It could carry a lot of weight. "Well Dewynn, you'll be carrying a Jeep and a few men from the 101st Airborne Division, including their Brig General. You're being transferred to the 99th 2 Carrier squadron."

"Yessir,"

"Good! Go pick your copilot and radio operator, and I'll round up the twenty or so soldiers you'll be carrying,"

Dewynn walked over to the barracks. Huey and Freyermuth were talking amongst themselves over some new cigarettes. They looked pleased about his arrival. "Hey Dewynn!" Freyermuth hollered, "Where's your shiny medal?" They both laughed. Dewynn filled them in. They were stunned. Huey spoke, "Just a promo and a new mission?" Dewynn nodded, "I need a copilot and an operator. You two in?" They nodded.

Dewynn and Huey climbed into the cockpit. The 101st were just piling in. Dewynn turned, "Everyone ready?" The soldiers nodded. The General did nothing and buckled in. Freyermuth radioed the B-24, and they got underway. The B-24 picked up speed and lurched up, pulling the Waco with them. Dewynn felt it right away. Something wasn't right. It had been a few minutes and they were well into the air. Just before the B-24 detached, one of the soldiers got Dewynn's attention, "Hey pilot! Keep our General safe, you hear? They already welded steel plates to the floor to keep him safe from ground fire, but-"

Deywnn whirled around, "They did _what?_"

The soldier looked stunned, "They… put extra steel flooring on to…"

"Oh shit…"

Dewynn and Huey grabbed the controls and Freyermuth was about to radio the B-24, but then they heard it. A deep KACHUNK, and the B-24 detached. They were on their own. Dewynn looked panicked, "This is gonna be Hell…"


End file.
